


your promised heart

by ElasticElla



Category: Den lille Havfrue | The Little Mermaid - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 00:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: “Magic is never free. But I am the only witch of the water, it grows lonely.”“Oh,” the mermaid breathes, and there’s no point in revealing that the Sea Witch herself made sure of it. (Her house of bones isn’t only made out of drowned sailors.)





	your promised heart

**Author's Note:**

> title from & femficlet prompt was this Wu Tsao quote - _I want to possess you completely— / Your jade body /And your promised heart._
> 
> also for the [corsets and lemons kinkmeme](https://corsetsandlemons.dreamwidth.org/2535.html) (19th cent lit)

The Sea King’s youngest daughter is before her, begging for an early death on legs. It’s tempting to grant it, to demand her pretty deep blue eyes or her melodious tongue. It would pain the entire royal court to lose their youngest princess so soon, a sharp revenge for tossing her aside. (The Sea Witch isn’t one for dancing, but _everyone_ goes to the royal balls she’s no longer invited to.)

No, her vengeance shall be long lasting- known to come from her hands. With a wicked smile, she asks the young princess, “Tell me my dear, what is the point in an immortal soul if you cannot visit your family? If you can no longer swim through familiar waters? If you cannot eat or sleep, merely lust for what you once were?” 

The young mermaid frowns, tears glimmering in her eyes that cannot be shed. “You can’t help me.” 

“Oh my foolish friend, I can do so much more,” the Sea Witch says, draping an arm around her slight shoulders. “What you truly desire is to be safe by the surface, to not fear being turned to foam by some petty human. There is a potion that will make you immortal like I.” 

“I… I don’t understand.” 

“The best of both worlds sweetling-”

“No,” she interrupts, “I don’t understand why you would aid me so. My father has told me about you.” 

The Sea Witch laughs, pleased the mermaid does have some sense. “Magic is never free. But I am the only witch of the water, it grows lonely.” 

“Oh,” the mermaid breathes, and there’s no point in revealing that the Sea Witch herself made sure of it. (Her house of bones isn’t only made out of drowned sailors.)

“The next person you see fall overboard- dead or alive, hale or ill, young or old- bring them to me and I will make the potion.” 

.

The princess returns with the new moon, tugging along a bloated corpse. The polypi catch them easily, the young mermaid too encumbered to dart through the marshes as before. The mermaid begins to panic, flailing about, every movement leading to tighter bondage. As it was tempting to allow the princess to cleave her tail in two and die quickly, it is tempting to allow her to become her pets’ plaything and meal. But the girl did as she asked, might very well make for an interesting companion. 

The Sea Witch clucks twice, and the polypi writhe unhappily, but relinquish their prize. 

Most potions the witch takes liberties with, adding big or small tweaks to see how it changes the magic. Immortality is not such a potion she would gamble on, following the traditional recipe to the letter. (The last thing she needs to do is accidentally create a being stronger than herself.)

The blood of a first kill, five teardrops of a widow, an entire body (bloated and clothed), a stillborn babe, a starfish with thirteen arms, a pearl made the very same day, and a handful of crabs (for flavor) all go into the pot. Chanting, she stirs, sparks of magic breaking down the ingredients and melding them together. 

The Sea Witch finally holds up the finished glittering potion of scarlet, greed shining in the mermaid’s gaze. Perfect. 

“Now, onto the matter of payment.” 

The mermaid reaches for a pouch slung about her waist, “I brought the most beautiful I could find. Of every color, not a one chipped.”

“No, no- I require more personal payment.” 

Her forehead wrinkles, “My eight great oysters?” 

Her tail flicks with the heavy burden, and the witch nearly giggles. “No, you would have to pay _me_ to take such things.”

“My crown?” she asks next, fingers stumbling over the heavy white lilies inlaid with pearls.

The Sea Witch shakes her head, smiles. “Every year you age, you shall bring me a bone and sup with me.”

“I shall.” 

.

When the mermaid turns sixteen they eat dried seaweed, and she tells the witch all about her year by the shore. Of the children who were afraid of her, of the prince she once saw marrying another princess, of a horrifying beast that makes loud angry noises whenever it spots her. 

At seventeen, the mermaid tells her about far away lands, of one enclosed entirely in ice. Her father was most displeased that she swam so far, and the witch is amused that the mermaid still hasn’t told her family about the deal she wrought. 

At eighteen, the mermaid sings for her, has the most beautiful voice. Nineteen and she comes in tears, her grandmother has reached the end of her three-hundred years. Her twenties are spent with fruitless attempts to befriend a human, her thirties in bitter resignation. (The middle sister is killed by a man, and the Sea Witch tells the youngest princess her first lie: she cannot raise the dead.)

((It isn’t a matter of principle, but forethought. She will not make the mermaid’s entire family everlasting, she’s already plucked the best gem from their crown.))

Decades pass, and the mermaid court realizes the youngest princess appears far too young. She hasn’t aged a day past twenty, and the Sea King is screaming on her doorstep. 

He chose the poorest day for it (the best). For any other day, she would hex him and send him back to his crystal palace. But today she allows him to rant, allows his trident to skewer one of her tentacles as the princess appears with a shriek. 

His anger only mounts higher at his daughter’s defense, and the Sea Witch can taste the changing of the tides. 

.

A century has passed since the deal was struck, a pile of a hundred various bones. Some animal, some human, big and small. The witch makes a garden plot with them, a little fence around the flowers of all warm colors. 

The princess laughs with joy when she discovers it, lays in the rippling petals. 

“Beautiful,” she declares, and kisses the witch.


End file.
